


By Any Other Name

by tarnera



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Fox is so done, Gen, No beta we die like mne, but this one is a moron too, crack treated as the delicious crack it is, senate guard are assholes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 13:01:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25970107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarnera/pseuds/tarnera
Summary: The Senate Guard is very annoying, if only by the amount of paperwork they create.Fox is Tired and Done.Things devolve from there.
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox & CC-5869 | Stone
Comments: 28
Kudos: 116





	By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I'm bored at work, I start coming up with Sad Fox Headcanons and then I get a random thought that diverts me down a totally different path.
> 
> The thought in question this time was 'what if the Senate Guard tried to start some shit with a very tired Fox'. This was the result.
> 
> I'm posting this at like 2 am, all mistakes are mine and I will correct them later after sleep, probably.

Commander Fox was exhausted. He was almost at the end of a double shift spent uselessly guarding the Senate doors, along with Stone and two shinys, and he had been having a nice time daydreaming about getting some rations and caf after he was done. Which was of course when trouble appeared.

Not even interesting trouble, like a murder, or exciting trouble, like a threat to the Senate. Not that he wanted those either, but they would still have been preferable to _boring_ trouble—namely, one of the Senate Guard had marched over and was trying to start osik. According to him, Fox wasn’t standing in the correct spot.

It was a little bit pathetic, really. The trainers on Kamino had been much worse than this puffed-up loth-kitten, and Fox was handling it the same way—by standing there and taking the lecture. This type wanted a reaction and ninety-five percent of the time they wandered off when their target didn’t oblige.

Unfortunately for Fox, this guy was either extremely bored or a major asshole. The lecture did not wind down; instead the guy just kept switching topics. From insulting Fox’s armor paint to lewd speculations about his love life (Fox wasn’t sure which to be more offended by), the guy was really pulling out all the stops.

He had actually tuned most of the diatribe out in favor of trying to figure out who this guy was. The Senate Guard all looked the same in their identical armor, but after fifteen minutes of increasingly unhinged screeching he was pretty sure it was the one who kept filing petty reports with him, always demanding the clone he was picking on get a hefty demerit. They were a headache and a half to get dismissed too; even if the osik the guy picked on was stupid it was technically against regs, and a nat-born’s word generally tended to outrank a clone’s.

That would be the perfect end to this bantha-poodoo day, having to wade through a sea of red tape to get a complaint against himself dismissed, just for standing a few inches to the wrong side.

Sure enough, the Senate Guard suddenly cut himself off, jabbing a finger into Fox’s chestplate. “What’s your name and number, Sergeant?”

Fox, who was already opening his mouth to reply to the expected demand, froze. Behind him, Stone made a weird choking noise.

This… this kaysh mirsh solus of a Guard couldn’t even remember Fox’s _rank_? His armor wasn’t exactly easy to mistake, and he had to resist the sudden, ridiculous urge to glance down and make sure he was wearing his armor and not Thorn’s or something.

Beneath his bucket, Fox narrowed his eyes at the Guard. He was tired, hungry, and desperately in need of some caf. Most of all, Fox was _Done_. All of which was probably why, when Fox gathered his wits enough to unfreeze, he said in an utterly bland tone, “It’s Nemo, sir. Sergeant Nemo, CT… uh… CT-55-3914.”

This time Stone made a squeaking sound, which was followed by a thud. Fox carefully didn’t look back, though he savagely wished Stone’s ankle was within kicking distance.

The Senate Guard seemed to consider that for a moment, then he nodded. “Very good, CT-55-3914.” He said ‘Nemo’s’ CT-number in a gloating, mocking tone. “You’re going to be in a world of trouble when I’m done with you. Where can I find your superior officer?”

There were more strange sounds from the direction of Stone and the shinys. Fox really didn’t want to know. The Guard (Fox had decided his name was Di’kut from now on) seemed to be ignoring the other three clones entirely, which Fox was both glad about and also clearly demonstrated that Di’kut’s new nickname was well-deserved.

Fox carefully kept his voice bland and monotone. “Commander Fox can be found in his office after his shifts, most days.” It was, as a statement, perfectly true, if a bit pretentious. The only people who spoke in the third person were villains in bad holo-novels.

Di’kut seemed to take it as the answer to his question, and swaggered off without another word. Fox watched him until he rounded a corner out of sight, taking a moment to breathe in a relieved sigh. That could have been a lot worse.

Then, feeling a bit like a man walking to his own decommissioning, he slowly turned around to take in what exactly the others had been doing.

One of the shinys had his bucket pressed against the wall—probably the source of the thud. Stone was holding himself up by a ledge of the same wall, shoulders shaking, clearly laughing too hard to be able to stand upright without assistance. Fox just shook his head at him, which only made Stone laugh harder. Fox chose to be glad he’d finally remembered to mute his mic.

The second shiny was staring at Fox. When Fox tipped his bucket at him inquisitively, the shiny breathed, “Pardon the language, sir, but that was kriffing wizard.”

Fox sighed a little louder. “Remind me to not let you spend any time around General Skywalker, shiny.” There was no need to encourage that kind of talk; wizard was hardly a proper word.

Stone slowly brought himself back under control, and moved to sling an arm over Fox’s shoulders. The commander gave him a look, but allowed it for the moment. “Well then, Nemo! As your superior officer, I hereby nominate you to buy the first round tonight.”

Fox rolled his eyes, brushing off Stone’s friendly gesture. “Who said I was going out? My workload—”

“—is in your office,” Stone pointed out, sounding unnecessarily smug. “Do you really want to go back there, knowing what’s waiting for you?” Fox stayed quiet, which let Stone know he’d won. “Don’t worry, commander, I won’t tell a soul about what happened here today.”

Fox resisted the urge to remove his bucket and rub the bridge of his nose. This was going to be the worst-kept ‘secret’ in the GAR by tomorrow morning, he just knew it.

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a notes  
> Osik: shit, dung  
> kaysh mirsh solus: moron (literally 'his brain cell is lonely)  
> Di’kut: idiot (literally 'someone who forgets to put their pants on')
> 
> The name Nemo comes from Latin, meaning 'nobody'. I used in here in part as a reference to the Odyssey; if you don't know the story, I suggest you look it up. Highly entertaining if a bit bloody and eye-horror-y.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [No sir, that name doesn’t exist. Sorry sir](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217940) by [Nightingalewritings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightingalewritings/pseuds/Nightingalewritings)




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